Dear Cain,

Wow! Can you believe that you’ve been gone for a whole month? It seems like only yesterday you set off with Jeb and all the other Tin Men to go fight evil in the South... How’s that working out?

The raids on the castle have lessened. At first, there were hundreds of witch-supporters, armed to the teeth and raring for a fight. Now, it’s some old guy wailing on the outer wall with his cane... cane... Cain! Wow, I’m glad I’m writing this down, otherwise I’d forget who I was writing to, or what I was writing about.

I’m going to be getting my marbles back by the end of the month... Hopefully. Or not. Do you think you’ll like Ambrose? The Queen tells me about him a lot, but she’s rather biased, right? I asked some of the older servants and guards who had been around pre-Azka... before the witch, and they all unanimously agreed that he was a giant prick. But that doesn’t matter, as long as you like him, right?

I know it’s wishful thinking, but write back soon, ok? I can’t wait to hear from you!

Love,
Glitch


Dear Cain,

Definitely wishful thinking. Been two weeks since I wrote the letter, and you still haven’t written back! DG says that you’re probably really busy fighting bad guys and wrestling bears, but... I’m going to write another letter, just in case you didn’t get that last one.

The surgery is in just two weeks! I’m excited! I’m nervous! I’m a little nauseous, but that’s ok, I’ll get over it. Soon, I’ll be able to remember all the things I want to remember... For example, your birthday. I remember you telling it to me, but I forgot, and I really want to remember so I won’t miss it! What do you want for your birthday? DG says I should get you a personality, but I’m sure she doesn’t mean anything by it... Pretty sure. Almost sure. Sorta sure. Yeah.

I think you have a sparkling personality.

Love,
Glitch


Dear Cain,

All that talk about your birthday reminded me that my birthday was today! DG got me this really nifty thing from the Other Side... I think she called it a YShell. Either way, it makes a lovely paperweight, which I would use on your letters... If you sent any.

Azka-D did the math and determined that since I paid a little extra for express delivery, you should of already gotten both of my letters. And since DG all but threatened to kill the postmaster, I bet my letters weren’t lost... Which means that you just haven’t been replying. That’s ok. I know that you’re busy. Wrestling bears is a full-time responsibility. I can wait...

Though, I would like to get a letter from you, before I go under the knife next week. It’d be awfully comforting.

Love,
Glitch


Dear Cain,

Well, today’s the big day! No letter, but that’s ok, because I know you’re there for me in spirit! Though, when you do get back... You may want to have somebody check your food and drink. DG’s been a bit on the homicidal side lately, with her anger fixated on your lack of responsiveness. Luckily, you’re not here! Unfortunately, the postmaster has hair similar to yours, and the poor kid just can’t get a break.

Well, time to go in... Raw says you’re worrying about me, and I believe him, so I guess that’s as good as a real letter.

Oh, and don’t think that this letter is wet because I’m crying. It’s just raining, is all.

Love,
Glitch


Dear Cain,

Well, I don’t feel any different. Personality-wise, I mean. Mentally, I feel like the giant cloud that has been blocking out my suns for years has finally passed. I can finally remember your birthday. July 16th. A Cancer. How ironic.

DG says that she can tell the difference, and the Queen is absolutely ecstatic to have her best friend back... But, I still feel the same!... Does this mean I’ve been a giant prick this entire time?! Why didn’t anybody tell me? Why didn’t anyone give me a sign when I did prickish behavior or something–

Oh. That’s right. You did.

Well, there has been at least one change: I’m incredibly impatient. Please reply quickly. The postmaster knows me by name.

Love,
Ambrose


Cain,

This is getting a bit ridiculous. DG, who has been accompanying me on all my excursions to the post office, has begun to date the postmaster! I’ve been there so often I have actually memorized his name! It’s Gregory, Cain. Gregory.

No, this is ridiculous. If you’re not going to reply to my letters, Cain, I’m simply going to stop writing them. This is my last one until you write back.

If you never do, enjoy the rest of your crusade, and kindly go die in a fire.

Sincerely,
Ambrose


Cain sighed and leaned against the postbox, rereading Ambrose’s last letter. They had stopped in many small villages along the way. He had leaned on many postboxes. He had written many letters on pieces of scrap paper using eyebrow pencils borrowed from one of the village girls. He had thrown many away.

He stared at his latest draft, written haphazardly in red lipstick on the back of what was probably once a very important memo.

Dear Ambrose,

I love you.

Love,
Cain

Sighing, he threw it onto the ground, ignoring the judging glare of the mailman. He’d find the right words. Someday.